A/N: Only my second Doctor Who fic. Set some time after "Family of Blood", but before "Blink". AU, because "Blink" and the following adventures of Martha and The Doctor will change slightly as result of what I'm going to do to their relationship. Also AU because I'm giving a different spin on the Lupine Wavelength-Haemovariform The Doctor and Rose encountered in "Tooth and Claw". It's kind of based on a combination of that and the Werelok in a Doctor Who comic I read about, plus other werewolf plots throughout the Who universe. But it'll be the first time The Doctor, in his Tenth incarnation, will encounter it.
Does that make sense? Hope so! The simple answer is that it's just for fun on my part. I got the idea for this because I was listening to the blues singer Howlin' Wolf. I can't really explain it beyond that – I just started writing and this is what came out! Hope you like it. Please review, and tell me what you think! I own nothing, by the way.
Nightfall
A Doctor Who fanfic by kendrawriter
I.
"Alright then, Martha Jones! You know what to do." The Doctor clapped his hands once and rubbed them together excitedly, leaning forward to squint at the monitor attached to the control console of his beloved time machine/space ship, the TARDIS. He blew air through his pursed lips and poised his fingers over the control panel below the monitor. "Gimme a number – any number – between one and one hundred."
Martha grinned, used to this game by now. "Em…four."
"Four!" The Doctor punched in the coordinates on the control panel. He pointed at her, not looking up from what he was doing. "Another!"
"Twenty eight?"
"Yah…" he punched that in, and made a spinning gesture with the finger he was still pointing at her. "Hit me baby, one more time?" He said the lyric to the pre-mental Britney Spears song like he was asking Martha to pass the pudding.
Martha pretended to think about it. He glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised, as she held off giving her answer. Their eyes met. Martha wasn't exactly trying to be cheeky, but she sometimes couldn't help herself. It was her odd little habit these days traveling with The Doctor – nearing the end of their fifth month together – since she had long since given up hope that he would ever, ever acknowledge that she was in love with him. Or reciprocate.
It wasn't exactly his fault. She had worked hard before they left 1913 to assure him she would've said anything to get him to change back into a Time Lord. And she would have – it just so happened that what she said was the truth. Still, he took her at her word and they never mentioned it again. Now, Martha didn't know if it was out of resentment or heartbreak (perhaps both) but she sometimes found slyly flirting with him to make him uncomfortable strangely…cathartic.
So he looked at her, and she didn't try to disguise the coy gleam in her eyes as she leaned forward across the console. She bit her lip. "Hmm…how about…sixty nine?"
"Sixty nine it is, then." He tore his gaze away from hers and resumed squinting at the monitor as he punched in the coordinates, either totally oblivious or choosing to ignore her attempt at a dirty joke. Then did a gleeful face. "Ooh!"
"Where to this time?" Martha sighed and resolved to dive into their next adventure, shoving aside her frustration with his aloofness.
She wouldn't give up traveling with him for the world, she knew. But, she had to admit, it was painful sometimes, the rejection. When they stayed busy, running or fighting or getting into things on strange planets and in strange times, she was fine. It was only these in-between times – these alone times with no one but them in the TARDIS – when it got hard for Martha to ignore her feelings of longing. For his part, The Doctor carried on as if they were merely roommates on an extended road trip. Which was exactly what they were, but Martha couldn't escape her hope that one day they could be more. A part of her very well knew they probably never would, but then he would say or do something that would ignite that hope again within her. She was starting to resent that hope, even as she clung to it.
"It's a surprise!" The Doctor sang, dashing about madly as usual, adjusting controls here and there. He shooed her out of the way to ratchet up a lever that she'd been toying with absentmindedly. "But I'll give you a hint: it's Earth. Not your time, though. Okay, twentieth century, but that's all I'm telling you! Except I think you're really going to like it. Haven't been to these particular coordinates in…ooh…" he sucked in a breath, pausing to think about that. Martha smiled in amusement as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Blimey, well, never, actually. Can't have that, can we? Anything could be happening!"
He unleashed a full-blown grin on her, which caused her heart to flutter as it always did, and released the hand break.
The TARDIS took off through the Vortex. They were jostled and thrown about a bit as the sentient machine jetted on a bumpy course towards their destination. Martha held on tight and the Doctor called out "Allons-y!" His boyish enthusiasm was infectious, even through the turbulence, and she laughed.
"Allons-y!" she echoed, and they clasped hands over the console.
When they landed, The Doctor powered down the engine and secured the break.
"Hang on, but we've been to Earth in the twentieth century loads of times," Martha complained, crossing her arms. He poked his head from around the monitor to raise his eyebrows at her.
"Only twice, actually. And you picked the coordinates, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
She turned to walk towards the doors, feeling that familiar sense of mounting anticipation running through her. It didn't matter where or when they landed. Stepping out of the TARDIS was like no other experience in the world. For those few seconds as The Doctor unlocked the doors, Martha always found herself filled to the brim with fear and excitement, and even a little high on the thrill of the unknown. After five months of traveling (well, technically two and a half were spent stuck in 1913 waiting for The Family of Blood to die), it never got old.
He was behind her suddenly, standing close. His proximity made her swallow and restrain herself from turning to look up into his eyes. She felt him lean closer, and then he was standing on his tiptoes, peering over her head out through the TARDIS' small windows. His long, billowy coat almost swallowed her whole. Martha didn't complain. "Hm."
"What?"
"Pitch black out there." He stepped to the side, lowering himself flat on his feet again, and grinned down at her. "After me!"
The Doctor unlocked the doors and pushed them both open wide like an explorer shoving open the entrance to a tomb of treasures. He stood in the doorway, peering out into the darkness. Martha's eyes adjusted and she could make out trees. They were surrounded by trees. "A forest?"
"So it would seem…" The Doctor muttered, stepping out of the TARDIS. Martha followed closely, closing the doors behind her. The absence of light from the console room made her wish she had remembered to grab a torch. She had a mind to go back for one, but The Doctor was already striding forward confidently.
"But where is…?" He paused in his stride and Martha bumped right into him.
"Oi!" She grunted, grabbing his arm to steady herself. The ground here felt as though it was sloping downward.
"Shh!" The Doctor held a finger up. "Listen…"
Martha listened. She heard water rushing along somewhere nearby. It didn't sound powerful enough to be a river, but it definitely wasn't a lake. A tributary, probably. "Where are we?" she demanded in a whisper.
"Well, if I landed the TARDIS properly, we should be somewhere near the – Martha?"
She had lost her footing in an instant, and found herself sliding on her bum down a bumpy little hill. She clawed at the earth for an upturned tree root or something to halt herself but she only managed to collect fistfuls of mud and grass. Then, in about eight seconds, Martha was sitting up to her hips in water. "Ohhh, I'm gonna murder you!"
"…the Tibbee Creek." The Doctor finished feebly from above her.
"Help me out of this!"
"Right. Coming. Sorry."
Martha looked up at the sky. It was full of clouds, obscuring the stars and moon. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She heard the Doctor gingerly making his way down to her. She stood up slowly, her shoes sinking into muddy earth below the water surface. She cursed under her breath. Then a slender hand, barely visible in the dark, appeared near her head. The Doctor wiggled his fingers at her. "Up you get."
She rolled her eyes and took hold of his hand, turning to hoist her self back up the little hill. The water, since she was standing, only came up to just above her ankles. She was on the bank of the steadily flowing creek, and from here the rushing water sound was more pronounced.
Her jeans were completely soaked and soggy with mud. Martha chewed down on her annoyance as she tried to climb back up the steep bank with The Doctor's help.
Of course, he shifted his weight wrong and slipped himself, plunging them both back into the murky water.
"Oh, this is just lovely!"
"My coat!" The Doctor moaned, observing his now mud-stained coat in the inky darkness. "Janis Joplin gave me this coat…and awww my Chucks! My red ones, these are my favorites…!"
Martha chucked a wad of muddy grass at him. Then she giggled.
"Right."
"Oh no, you don't--!"
Too late. The Doctor seized her and began dragging her towards him in the sludgy earth. Martha yelped and twisted her body to get away from him but he was strong for such a skinny bloke. He pulled her to him, dodging her attacks, until she found herself pressed in his arms, bracing her hands against his chest. She breathed in, and smelled his spicy aftershave even over the reedy creek smell. It was a heady scent, especially when it mingled with his natural smell. Martha could never quite place it, sometimes it reminded her of different things. Pleasant things. Vanilla or popcorn or a warm summer day or her father's leather jacket…
"Give up, or I can't be held responsible for the consequences, Jones," he muttered, his face inches from hers. Martha was sure he could feel her heart beating in time with his under her palms. She was sure he must've realized how his closeness was affecting her. Didn't he? He smiled lopsidedly; innocently; oblivious.
Then he put mud in her hair. Martha's jaw dropped, and she reached down, grabbing a giant wad of boggy earth and squashing it into his tie. "Fat chance!"
Muck and creek water began to fly as they began to chuck it at one another. Martha squealed as the stuff flew at her and growled when The Doctor effortlessly dodged her attacks. When a big clomp of marshy goo landed square in the middle of her chest and began trickling slimily down between her breasts, Martha threatened to push him full body into the creek.
"Truce!" He called, and they sagged into the hilly bank on their backs, both breathing hard from the exertion.
Martha stared up at the black, cloudy sky. She thought she could make out little snatches of moonlight, hidden behind an endless precession of giant, inky clouds. "So, what exactly am I supposed to 'really like' about this, then?"
"Oh, the music!" The Doctor exclaimed, as if he had only just remembered. He turned to lay on his side, propping his elbow under his chin. She could hardly make him out, but she could tell that he was grinning. She turned to give him an incredulous look.
"What music? So far we've only managed to have a mud ball fight."
"Oh, well, yeah that wasn't part of the plan. Though it was fun, eh? Oh but the music, Martha! During this time, some of the best music of the century originated here. Legends! Ohh, I've always wanted to see the start of it all. Muddy Waters – no pun intended – Son House, Lovely Lucille, though she died before things really took off…"
"Wait, where and when are we exactly?" Martha recognized those names. Growing up with her parents, who played ancient blues records and early rock and roll all through her youth, she had come to know these names very well. She suddenly got a very bad feeling.
"1940s Mississppi, of course. Well – White Station, to be exact. Hmmm…'38 or '39, I think. They're just getting the first good breath of fresh air after being stifled by The Great Depression for nearly a decade. And this is when the music really starts catching fire, Martha. Oh, you'll love it – what?"
Her feeling confirmed, Martha stared at the dark outline of The Doctor's face. "You've got to be joshin' me…"
"Quite serious." Suddenly the clouds parted from obscuring the moon and she could see that he was giving her a face to prove that he was, in fact, serious.
"Doctor…look at me. Really look at me. Do you foresee a problem, here?"
"I am really looking at you, Martha Jones, and you've got mud on your face." He grinned. She glowered.
"Aside from the mud, Doctor. Me? In 1940s Mississippi?"
He frowned at her, totally missing her point. And then: "Oh. Riiiight…"
"Back to the TARDIS, then, yeah?"
"Hang on – since when did you care about that? It never stopped you before."
"I spent almost three months in 1913 scrubbing up after you and a whole town full of people who made it a point everyday to remind me of my 'place', remember? Don't think I'm quite ready to dive back into that just yet, thanks."
He looked at her for a long time, a shadow in his eyes. She could tell that he was thinking back to that time. She wondered if he was also thinking about what she had confessed in that time's darkest hour. Then he sighed. "Back to the TARDIS, then."
He sat up and got to his feet, then leaned over to help her up. She allowed him to pull her to her feet and looked up into his face. All traces of amusement were gone. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed or remorseful or what. She was now regretting what she'd said. Maybe she should tell him she was just kidding?
The moonlight was very bright now. She turned once more to look up at the sky. It was a full moon. It was beautiful, and very large. She didn't recall ever seeing one so big and luminous. For a shadow of a moment, she thought back to the very first time she met The Doctor; the Judoon platoon on the moon. His words. He was so cute and charming…even in a crisis. She was on the point of telling him never mind about going back to the TARDIS, when:
"Martha, don't move."
Suddenly he was standing in front of her, shielding her. His body was tense in a certain way, and it made Martha go rigid with fear in response.
"What is it?" she whispered.
He was gazing vigilantly across the creek, at the bank on the other side. Martha scanned the landscape, and then her eyes caught site of something that almost stopped her heart.
There, perched on the bank directly across the rushing waters of the creek, its eyes shining silvery white in the shadows, was an enormous black wolf.